


Wish we could turn back time, to the good ol' days

by ShineBrightStarLight



Series: August Writer's Month 2019 [8]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allura (Voltron) Lives, Future Keith/Shiro - Freeform, Galra Keith (Voltron), Gen, Implied Mpreg, M/M, Married Keith/Shiro, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Shiro (Voltron), Shiro and Keith get closer not distant, Time Travel, but the season that shall not be named isn't mentioned a whole lot, i.e Allura doesn't die, original child character - Freeform, past shiro's pov, set after an alternate ending to the show
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-08-13 18:34:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20178832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShineBrightStarLight/pseuds/ShineBrightStarLight
Summary: Shiro wakes up in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar house, on an unfamiliarplanet, next to an unfamiliar, but familiar person.They roll over, making a soft noise as they drag their kid closer to themselves. Without even opening their eyes, they murmur, "Babe? Come back to bed, it's the weekend."Shiro stays frozen where he is, too shocked to move or even speak. He knows that voice. He knows that face. It's different, older, with a small scar going through his lip, another larger one on his cheek and a weird purple tattoo on the other, but Shiro would know that face anywhere.When he doesn't reply, his partner – Keith - opens his eyes. They make startled eye contact, and Keith's face cycle's through a series of expressions, too quick for Shiro to catch before settling on bewildered."Shiro? What- What happened to your hair?" Keith asks, slowly sitting up.For Day 9 of Writer's Month; trope prompt; time travel





	Wish we could turn back time, to the good ol' days

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Twenty-one pilots "Stressed Out".
> 
> Edited and rewritten: 03/02/2020

Shiro feels so warm and content. Tendrils of sleep cling to his mind, and all he wants is to succumb to them. He's so comfortable, the bed he lies in just the perfect point between soft and firm, like it was made for him. He shifts and draws the sheets up further. They're tangled down near his hips, and he isn't quite sure why, but he's too tired to fight it. His mind is pleasantly slow, sticking like honey.

Shiro sighs into his pillows and cuddles closer to the heat in front of him. Something soft tickles his nose and he shifts, huffing to get it away from his face. Instead, it sticks, now wet with spit. Blearily, he opens his eyes to wipe it away. The hair is dark and long. Much longer than Shiro's own hair. It is enough to properly wake Shiro. He stares, bewildered, at the lock of hair in his hand, and traces it back to the person it belongs to. 

There is a person in Shiro's bed.

A person who is not Shiro. Someone other than Shiro. In Shiro's bed. With Shiro. 

He flushes as he realises that he is plastered to this person's back and hastily shuffles backwards a surprising distance. He rubs his eyes to clear the sleep from them and realises three things. 

1\. The bed he's in is much too large to be his own on the castleship.  
2\. That's because, from the look of the room he's in, he's not in the castleship.  
3\. He has absolutely no memories of leaving the castle, or anything else that could have led to this.

He sits up a bit, trying not to disturb his partner. He needs more time to gather his thoughts before he confronts them. The room is dim, the only light source the window. Through it, he can see a large red sun is slowly rising. It's beautiful, and he can already tell that this planet is as hot and dry as a desert. 

He turns his attention back to the room, and now that he is noticing, finds it surprisingly Earth-like. Suspiciously Earth-like. It has a king-size bed (Shiro studiously ignores the other inhabitant), bedside tables, a dresser, lamps and a comfortable chair in the corner of the room, which is piled high with laundry. It even has a wardrobe and a door, slightly open to reveal a bathroom. The last door is firmly shut. It makes Shiro nervous. 

But more importantly, Shiro notices the details. There are pictures on the dresser, and although he can't quite make them out, many look to be a couple embracing. There are things scattered on both bedside tables, lamps, and some sort of device on his partner's side, glasses and a book on his. It only worsens the sinking dread he feels in his gut. 

He slips further into the comfortable bedding and finally turns to look at the other person. Long dark hair is splayed across white sheets, wavy with ringlets of curls running through it. It looks soft and he nearly reaches out to touch it again, since he wasn't paying attention to its texture the first time, but he yanks his hand back before he does. The person lies on their stomach, arms crossed to pillow their head, which is turned in the other direction. 

He can't tell much more about them, from this angle. Not their species, or age, or even their gender, although Shiro would guess male since he has never been interested in anyone else.

Shiro closes his eyes and prays that this is just a dream. 

He has no recollection of meeting this person. He has no memory of this planet, of Allura even mentioning going to a new planet. How much time has he lost? Where are his team? 

Shiro can't think of another reason he would be in a stranger's bed besides sex, but he has also never had a one-night stand before. He's never wanted to either. He doesn't care what people do with their own bodies, but it has never been his style. He loves the intimacy of making someone he knows and loves feel good. He couldn't imagine baring himself, both literally and figuratively, to a stranger like that. 

But how else could he have gotten here? And, more importantly, how is he going to get out?

He desperately wants to take the easy way out. To slip out of bed while his partner is sleeping, to creep around until he finds his clothes and hightail it out of here. Try and figure out what planet he's on, and how to contact his team, who are surely worried about him by now. 

But, at the same time, he can't do that to his partner. He doesn't remember last night, but he's presuming it went well, considering that he is still with them, and he's even wearing pyjamas. He doesn't want to insult them by running away. 

And worse, what if they're a government official, or some other high standing individual, someone important to the alliance that they are – presumably – making with this planet. If he runs, would it affect that?

Shiro decides that staying would be the better option, even if it might be awkward. He'd rather face them then accidentally ruin the alliance. He'll have to pretend he actually remembers what happened though, maybe he could weasel some details out of them when they wake up. 

Before he can think any further, he hears footsteps beyond the door. Shiro is instantly on edge, prepared to fight the individual, but the door doesn't open. Instead, a tiny voice says, "Kosmo, shhhh," and giggles before there is a flash of light, the overwhelming smell of ozone and suddenly a huge dog, nearly the size of a horse, lands in the bed. The dog – if he can even call it that - traps his legs, and his partner groans but doesn't wake. The dog is so big and blue, Shiro nearly misses the tiny tot who appeared with them. 

Shiro's heart sinks as they crawl up the bed, over him and his partner alike, before plopping down between them and snuggling into his partner's side. His partner hums, one arm coming down to wrap around the toddler, but seems to still be asleep. The kid's hair is a disaster but, as they lay their head down next to their parent's, it is easy to see where they get it from. The kid easily blends in with them, dark hair mixing on the pillows. They barely acknowledge Shiro, and he prays that they think he is still asleep. 

Shiro waits until the kid, their parent and the dog's breathing even out before he attempts to slip out of the bed. He was stupid to wait so long; he should have made his escape long before this. Fuck the alliance, fuck whatever the hell he had last night that wiped his memory completely, and fuck this person for sleeping with him when they so clearly have someone else in their life. Their kid deserves better than that. Their partner deserves better than that. 

Shiro has just managed to wriggle out from under the dog/wolf/beast in the bed when his partner stirs. He panics and pauses, praying to whatever god is listening that the person stays asleep. No such luck. They roll over, making a soft noise as they drag their kid closer to themselves. Without even opening their eyes, they murmur, "Babe? Come back to bed, it's the weekend." 

Shiro stays frozen where he is, too shocked to move or even speak. He knows that voice. He knows that face. It's different, older, with a small scar going through his lip, another larger one on his cheek and a weird purple tattoo on the other, but Shiro would know that face anywhere. 

When he doesn't reply, his partner – _Keith_ \- opens his eyes. They make startled eye contact, and Keith's face cycle's through a series of expressions, too quick for Shiro to catch before settling on bewildered.

"Shiro? What- What happened to your hair?" Keith asks, slowly sitting up. He's barely speaking above a hushed whisper. He sets the kid down and they snuggle into his pillow. Shiro runs his prosthetic hand through his hair subconsciously, and Keith's eyes track the motion. He frowns. 

"Keith, where the hell are we? What happened to your-" he gestures weakly at Keith's entire being. Keith frowns and looks down at himself. "Where did the kid come from? And the dog?" Shiro keeps his voice quiet, aware - even in his rising panic - that waking the kid would not be the best idea right now.

Keith's eyes widen as he glances at the kid and dog, before turning back to Shiro slowly. For a long moment, he just stares. His eyes have always been intense, but now they carry something extra. Something heavier. He stares and stares, long enough for Shiro to start to fidget where he stands. He sighs and taps the dog. "Let's go down to the kitchen, okay? We can talk there. Kosmo, come get me if she wakes up." 

Keith pulls the sheets away from his legs and stands. He isn't wearing pyjama bottoms, just an oversized, long sleeve t-shirt. Shiro flushes and turns away from the sight of those long legs. He hears Keith sigh behind him and the rustling of clothing before Keith leaves the room. Shiro follows him out into a long hallway and down a spiral staircase. If Shiro was in any other situation, he would stop to admire them, but he follows Keith dutifully. 

They reach a kitchen of sorts, although it is unlike any kitchen Shiro has ever seen. For one, the room is circular, focused around a large island with what looks to be a fire pit in the middle. There aren't any visible cupboards or presses, just the long countertop that nearly circles the entire room. Keith presses a space on the wall, and a coffee machine slides out, along with two mugs; one red, one black. Keith turns it on while Shiro hovers awkwardly, unsure if he should even come into the room. 

Shiro is more confused that he thinks he's ever been in his life. He's here, in what is apparently Keith's house, on an unknown planet. Keith is older, probably late twenties with hair that nearly reaches his ass. He's a bit taller than the last time Shiro saw him, and he's bulked out a bit. Not as scrawny as he used to be. He's more mature now. The scars adoring what Shiro glimpsed of his legs tell tales of many battles fought. Many battles survived. Something about him seems tired, but a different kind than Shiro is used to seeing. This is a happy and fulfilled tired, he thinks, rather than the physical, mental and emotional exhaustion of the war.

Keith has a kid now too. A child. Shiro doesn't know how he feels about it. Of course, he's happy for him, but a small part of him is bitter with jealousy.

Shiro doesn't know how he got here, but something is wrong. From Keith's reaction, Shiro isn't the Shiro he knows either. So, where is he? An alternate reality? Is this all a dream?

There is one other option, and Shiro doesn't want to think about its implications. 

See, just a year and a half ago, Shiro didn't even believe in aliens. Not really. But since then, he has been captured by aliens, tortured, freed, crash-landed on Earth and now leads a war against said aliens. In a giant ship shaped like a cat, that oh, just happens to be sentient. 

Shiro would believe just about anything these days, given an iota of evidence, and there's one more possibility; The future. Shiro is in the future. Possibly. And Keith seems to think it too. 

"So, uh, you have a kid," Shiro says, and immediately regrets it, from Keith's flinch. He steps closer, wanting to soothe, but he's the reason for Keith's distress. Shiro hovers awkwardly until he sighs. This is one battle he cannot win.

This isn't the Keith he knows, whether he's in an alternate reality or not. This Keith is older and wiser. He has years more experience than Shiro's Keith. Who knows what he could have seen in that time?

"Yeah," Keith says. It's resigned. Heavy. It says more than a single word should. Keith takes a deep, shuddering breath, and turns. "I can't do this."

"What?" Shiro asks. Shiro doesn't know what, exactly, this is, but if it has anything to do with their current situation than Keith is the only person who can do it. "Do what?" 

"This!" Keith gestures roughly between them, and Shiro tries to pretend it doesn't hurt. "You're- You're not the Shiro I know, that's obvious. I don't know how to even begin! Alternate reality? Time travel? I can't fix this, and I have to look after Lyra. I need to call someone." 

Keith is gone before Shiro can blink, leaving behind the steaming cup of coffee in the black mug. Shiro hears him speaking from another room, but doesn't move to follow him. Instead, he reaches for the mug and takes a small, tentative sip. It really is coffee, Shiro doesn't even remember the last time he had it, but he could never forget that taste. 

He stands, savouring his coffee for what could be seconds, minutes, or years until there is a flash and the heavy scent of ozone from behind him. There is a small knock on the door before the person lets themselves into the kitchen.

"Shiro," the new person calls. Shiro turns to face them. It's Allura. Her hair is in a bob, but not much else has changed. The years have been good to her. 

"Princess," Shiro replies. She must be the someone Keith had called, considering she doesn't look too surprised to see him. He opens his mouth to ask her something, anything, but Keith interrupts before he has the chance. It's probably for the better, his mind is simultaneously blank and full to the brim. He didn't even know where to start. 

"Lance is looking after Lyra," Keith says gruffly. He moves to stand next to Shiro, but hesitates and stands closer to Allura instead. 

"Good, she's in safe hands," Allura smiles. Keith's returning one is weak, but it's clear he's making an effort. "Right, let's get to the matters at hand. Tell me the last thing you remember before waking up, and everything that's happened since then." 

It doesn't take too long to recount his memories, and when he's done both Allura and Keith wear matching frowns on their faces. They share a look that Shiro can't decipher. He doesn't like this, being with people who are so similar to his team, but just different enough to be off-putting. His Allura and Keith can barely stand each other, with Allura currently pretending Keith doesn't even exist. Keith's recent galra heritage reveal had come as a shock to all of them, Keith worst of all, and it had opened a chasm between him and the team. A chasm Shiro was desperately trying to fix before he got sent here. 

But whatever reality or time Shiro is in now, it's clear that Keith's heritage is no longer a problem. As it should be. 

"Shiro, I'm going to have to ask you to lie down for a tick, if you don't mind," Allura asks and leads him into the next room. Shiro's breath is taken away by the floor to ceiling windows looking out over the back garden. It's huge, full of what Shiro can only presume is native plants, with a swing set and a treehouse. The sun is already high in the sky, even though Shiro couldn't have been awake for more than an hour.

A hand to his arm draws his attention back to the room, which he sees is a living room. There's a large and comfortable couch taking up the main space. Some things are alien, but it's so overwhelmingly like Earth, it nearly sends Shiro to tears. 

"You can lie here, Shiro. I'm going to have a look at your quintessence, unfortunately, you will lose consciousness," Allura says, patting the couch. She sits down at the end and asks him to put his head next to her, his feet at the other end, and to close his eyes. Allura places her hands on his temples, and Shiro slips unconscious. The last thing he sees is Keith, staring forlornly out the window.

Shiro wakes an undeterminable amount of time later. The room is flooded with sun, heating it, but a gentle breeze keeps it at a pleasant temperature. He sits up slowly and sees that the windows are actually doors, which are open wide to let the air in. The fresh air draws Shiro in, he can't remember the last time he was planetside. 

Once he's at the door, he sees Keith, Allura, a person who, although his back is turned, has to be Lance. Shiro can hear him from here. Shiro watches them, for a moment. Out here, in the sun, Keith seems lighter. Happier. He smiles and laughs, while Lance elbows him good naturally. His smile is a supernova, powerful and blinding. If Shiro gets too close, he'll get burned, but he can't help being drawn closer. 

He moves to step out into the sun, but he notices the kid – Lyra – running towards the table where Keith sits. He didn't see much of her earlier, bar her bird's nest of hair. Earlier, it was obvious who her parent was, but now it becomes even more so. She looks so like Keith, although she is even younger than Keith was when they met. Shiro doesn't know much about children, but he'd place her around three, or maybe a small four year old.

She shares Keith's eyes and his jaw. Shiro wonders where her other parent is, and what they look like. What does Lyra inherit from them?

Suddenly, Shiro feels like an intruder. He doesn't want to disturb the perfect image before him. He retreats back into the shadows cast across the room. Instead, Shiro occupies himself with exploring Keith's living room. He tells himself that he is not snooping.

The room is obviously lived in, pictures lining the walls and every available surface. One corner seems to have been designated as Lyra's, full of children's toys. Shiro even spots a Voltron toy. Something about the toy is jarring. Maybe it's the thought of Keith allowing his daughter to own such a thing. 

Maybe it's the universes most powerful weapon being presented as something for kids to play with.

Shiro shivers and turns away, focusing on the nearby bookshelf. It's full to the brim, chock-a-block with well-worn paperbacks, some of which Shiro recognises from his time at the Garrison. He picks up a copy of Macbeth, running his fingers down its spine. He flicks through the pages, letting himself revel in the feeling of actual, real paper under his fingertips. What he wouldn't give to curl up on the sofa right now and read it. Reluctantly, he sets it down, before he gets too tempted.

He wanders around the room, picking up trinkets, and objects. The room is so cosy, he's nearly overwhelmed by how homely it was. Growing up, his grandmother had kept the house showroom ready. It was a constant stress, making sure that not even a speck was out of place. He had always wanted a home like this, where he could be comfortable. Relaxed. 

He wonders what his home is like, here, in this alternate reality/future. Is it as cold and lonely as his childhood home?

There's a thud from outside, and he startles, bumping into a shelf. A couple of disks fall and Shiro scrambles to catch them before Keith notices he's destroying his home. As the disks hit his palm, they flicker, shining little projections into the air. Shiro's breath catches as his own face stares up at him. 

It's him, and the rest of the paladins. They look older than Shiro's time, but not by much. They're smiling, all crushed closely together. They look exhausted, but Shiro's gaze is drawn to himself. He sees now how Keith knew something was wrong the moment he woke up. His hair is snow white. It catches in the sun, so bright it's nearly blinding. He doesn't know how he feels about it. 

The projection flickers and changes, the others changing with it. Shiro sets the others down, focusing on the first. The next few images flick through, showing the paladins in groups of two's and threes. There's a picture of Keith, surrounded by galra all easily twice his height. Shiro recognises Kolivan, stern face twisted in the slightest ghost of a smile.

The next few pictures are all Shiro and Keith, always pressed close together. Shiro's arm, resting over Keith's shoulders on a beach with green sand. Their hands grasped tightly, bundled up in layers and layers of clothing in deep snow. Keith's hand on his chest, the other around his waist in suits, Shiro's hand on his hip in what looks like a park. 

Shiro's flicks through the other disks, to see more and more photos of them. One of the last one's draws his attention though. The first picture is of a sunset, the next a selfie. Shiro and Keith hold their left hands up, something glinting in the light. Shiro's breath catches. 

They're both wearing engagement rings. 

If that weren't enough, in the next picture they share a sweet kiss.

This disk obviously contains important memories. The next photo is of them in suits, Keith's stark white with a red bow tie, Shiro's black, with a purple tie.

They're married.

Shiro has to stop for a second, completely overwhelmed. He looks so happy. After Adam, Shiro never thought he would ever have the chance to settle down again. Once they joined the war, he was sure of it.

He had never even dared to let himself dream of getting something like that with Keith, of all people. His eyes well up, tears running down his cheeks before he can stop them. He sniffles and goes to wipe his eyes. He accidentally jostles the disk, and it moves to the next picture. 

It Keith, and Shiro again, and cradled on Keith's chest is the tiniest baby Shiro has ever seen. Both Shiro and Keith look exhausted, but their smiles are bright and genuine. It's Lyra, it has to be. 

Lyra isn't just Keith's kid, she's _his_ kid. 

He and Keith, at some point in the future (or at least, Shiro prays that this is the future, now that he knows what is in store for him) have a daughter together. His heart swells with adoration. Is it possible to love someone so ferociously, when he hasn't even properly met her?

But Shiro already knows that any child of Keith's is absolutely perfect.

The last slide on that particular disk of precious memories is an ultrasound. It's must have been from Lyra's pregnancy. Shiro hasn't ever seen an ultrasound in person before. He wonders if that tiny blob could have really grown into the child Shiro had seen before. It doesn't seem possible, in some way.

There's loud movement outside, and Shiro hastily shoves the disks back on the shelf, and goes to the open door, trying not to seem guilty. Does it really count as snooping when it's on your future self?

"Shiro!" Allura exclaims warmly, "I'm glad you are awake! We were quite worried, you were asleep longer than we thought." 

Shiro chuckles and rubs the back of his neck, "Yeah, I haven't had much sleep recently, sorry." 

"That's quite alright, don't worry about it now. Keith and Lance are just clearing up outside, they'll be in in a minute. I wanted to take the chance to talk to you about what we know." 

Shiro nods, tentatively. He's not sure he actually wants to know anymore. The idea of having all of this ripped away from him, this future that he never thought he could have… he shudders. It doesn't bear thinking about.

"Shiro, your quintessence is identical to our Shiro's. We're positive you're from the past," Allura says it as though it's a bad thing, and maybe it is, but all Shiro can think of is Keith and Lyra. That's his. That's his future. He ducks his head to hide the oncoming tears.

Allura must mistake his reaction for one of fear, or grief as she makes a sad sound and rests a hand on his shoulder. "Shiro, it's okay. We'll get you back to your time, Pidge and Hunk are already working on it with their teams. Time travel isn't something we have encountered before, but we can figure this out."

Shiro nods again, at a loss of what to say. He wants to get back to his team, of course he does, but he wants to see what his future is like. However, he's watched enough shitty time travel movies to know that knowledge of the future is bad. He doesn't want to ruin it for himself. He doesn't want to possibly affect the outcome of the war, or the other paladins lives. But he already knows so much.

Before Shiro can say anything, the sound of little feet thunders into the room. "Chichi!!" a tiny voice cries, followed by, "Lyra! Come back here!"

A tiny body collides slams into the couch, climbing up and into Shiro's lap before he can even react. Shiro inhales sharply, face to face with Lyra, his _daughter_, for the first time. She grabs onto his shoulders to balance herself and stands in his lap. But, as her eyes meet his, she seems to realise that something is wrong. 

She looks over his shoulder, back to Shiro, and over his shoulder again. Her lip wobbles, her eyes well up and before Shiro can react she's reaching out to someone over his shoulder. 

"Daddy!" she cries and she sounds so heartbroken and confused, Shiro immediately feels guilty. Keith leans over him and picks her up, cradling her to his chest, and running a soothing hand up and down her back. Keith leaves the room, bouncing and soothing her. 

Shiro notices Lance had come in behind Keith, and he moves to stand next to Allura. 

"That went well." 

Shiro groans and buries his face in his hands. It couldn't have gone any worse.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think? Sorry for the abrupt ending, I'm considering turning this into an actual fic. That won't happen until September/October though. Thanks for reading!
> 
> Edit: psstt you can find me on twitter now! [@starlightsight](https://twitter.com/starlightsight)


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